


Not My Father

by prescellphone



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Love, childhood shit comes back to haunt everyone, gallya, i live for angst, prompt, secretssss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prescellphone/pseuds/prescellphone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaby discovers a secret about her dead mother and her trust in Illya falters. </p><p>Music: 3 Rounds and a Sound by Blind Pilot and Hot Gates by Mumford and Sons</p><p>*Prompt from flyingfunambulist on Tumblr *</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not My Father

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt like a month ago and I was so busy with school and work that I had to push it aside until everything slowed down. Also, I have to get myself into an angsty mood in order to write stuff like this so it usually takes me a while to put everything together. 
> 
> The prompt was from flyingfunambulist on tumblr and I sort of (?) met all of the pieces of her request. I also asked my best friend / test reader for a lot of help on the idea for this. So this is kind of dedicated to both of you :)
> 
> EDIT: I've been told about the horrible historical accuracy in this fic and I completely agree with it all (history has always been one of my downfalls). But I do want to say that I write between classes, exams, lab reports, and work so not everything is going to be perfect. These fics are a way for me to relax and calm my anxiety from school, so it's not always going to be academically correct. I do love the criticism though because it only makes my writing better. :)

 

     

* * *

 

       “Gabriella, you need sleep.”

       Udo Teller’s voice was soft but shaky. He sat on the edge of her bed, his hand reaching out to push the hair from her face. Gaby shrugged his fingers away. She wiped at her red face with the back of her hand, the tears still flowing from her eyes.

       Hatred sat heavy in her chest. Hatred of their situation, of the wall separating her from freedom, of the Russians who had killed her mother. Her mother who had been so kind, so quietly strong. Her voice being the only sound Gaby wanted to hear as she lay in bed. The only person who didn’t reprimand Gaby for her attitude. Everything her father was not.

       Udo dropped his hand into his lap, “I’m sorry Gaby.”

       Gaby felt the hot tears pour down her cheeks, “It’s all your fault.”

       Her father didn’t respond. He knew it was true.

       Gaby felt her small bed shift as he stood up and left the room. Rolling onto her back, Gaby stared up at the ceiling, sobs building in her throat.

       She didn’t sleep.

       The next day, when Gaby returned from school, she found her childhood home empty except for her things packed away in a small suitcase. A note sat on the top with an apology, words of love, and an address written neatly across it. Udo Teller’s signature was well-known and it was scribbled along the bottom.

       Dropping the note, Gaby ran throughout the house, yelling madly for her father. Stopping in the middle of her parent’s bedroom, her voice grew weak as tears spilled from her eyes. He had left her. Just like he had left her mother.

       Gaby sobbed loudly, her chest aching from the pain. She curled up onto her parents’ bed, her hands pulling the blankets closer, wrapping herself in the scent of her mother.

       She lied there until the sun had dipped below the buildings and her tears had dried. With her sorrow gone, Gaby felt the hollow emptiness in her chest.

       She didn’t move until the front door opened and she heard footsteps move up the stairs. Sitting up, she watched as a tall, hulking man with a dark beard entered the room. He knelt down in front of her spot on the bed, his hands grabbing hers before she could pull them away. His eyes were kind when they looked at her.

       “Where’s my dad?” Gaby’s German felt rough in her voice.

       The man frowned sadly but his dirty hands were warm around hers, “He had to go. You’re going to live with me, Gabriella.”

       Swallowing, Gaby felt the tears return, “Will I ever see him again?”

       Wrapping her in his arms, the man lifted her shaking body and grabbed her suitcase.

       “My name is Schmidt. You are now Fräulein Schmidt. You must leave Gabriella behind.”

       Gaby watched the note with her father’s elegant signature flutter to the ground as they left the room.

       Once in the car, Gaby took one last look at her tiny house before turning away. She never looked back.

 

* * *

 

 

       “Fuck Gabriella,” Napoleon flinched underneath her hands.

       Rolling her eyes, Gaby continued to bandage his leg, “Oh please, you’re being such a baby.”

       “Do you want to swap places?” Napoleon grinded his teeth when she tied off the bandage.

       “No thank you.”

       “Yeah. How did you learn to do this anyway?”

       Gaby thought back to when her foster father had a car fall on him after the jack didn’t hold. She had been only 12 years old at the time, and she would never forget the blood pooling on the garage floor.

       Patting his leg, Gaby stood up, “My father.”

       Napoleon raised an eyebrow.

       “My foster father.”

       Nodding, Napoleon relaxed into the couch as Illya entered the room.

       “There are eyes everywhere. We’re never going to make it out with Napoleon injured.”

       Gaby loaded a gun, “No problem there. Waverly sent me a message. We’re going to leave Napoleon behind and we’re continuing on.”

       Napoleon sat up, “Like hell you are. I’m not going to stay here.”

       Pushing him back down, Gaby frowned, “I’m sorry, but if we want to finish this mission and get out of here alive, you have to stay. Illya knows the streets and I know what we’re looking for. You’ll only slow us down.”

       “No way. Peril…” Napoleon looked to Illya.

       Illya glanced at the both of them before turning to Napoleon, “She’s right, Cowboy. Sorry, we have to get this mission done.”

       “Fucking hell. So I just wait here for them to find me?”

       Gaby handed him a gun and some rounds, “No, of course not. Waverly is sending in some men to get you to the safe house. Illya and I are your distraction. They’ll follow us and give you time to get out.”

       Napoleon gripped Gaby’s arm, “Gaby, these are KGB agents, not Americans.”

       Gaby flashbacked to her mother’s lifeless body hitting the ground. Dark blood gushed out of the bullet wound in the middle of her forehead. Ignoring Gaby’s screams, the Russian men who had shot her mother dragged Gaby away. She could still remember the sleeve of a silky suit underneath her hand as she fought against them. She never understood why a KGB agent would ever need to wear a fancy suit. It was possible that it was all a figment of her imagination. She had only been 9. Anything was possible at that age. Including a young girl growing up without a mother for a month before her father was taken by the Nazis.

       Meeting Napoleon’s eyes, Gaby nodded, “I know what they are.”

       Illya shifted his feet nervously, “We need to leave.”

       Smiling reassuringly at Napoleon, Gaby touched his cheek, “I have Illya. Be safe and see you soon.”

       Napoleon closed his eyes before nodding, “See you soon.”

       With Illya’s hand in hers, Gaby glanced at Napoleon one more time before they shut the door. Her mother’s limp body flashed through her mind. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it if a Russian agent took another person from her life.

      With Illya leading the way, Gaby ran to keep up with his long strides, making sure she was always in arms reach. They reached their exit without any problems and Illya threw the door open before stepping back into the safety of the building.

       “Sniper?” Gaby muttered.

       “Most likely. They will have all the exits covered. We need to take him out.”

       “Or her.” Gaby checked her gun.

       Illya rolled his eyes, “Not right now, Gaby. Women don’t get to join the KGB anyway.”

       “Probably a good thing or we’d be dead already.”

       Gaby ignored Illya’s glare as she peeked out the door. The light above the door created a yellow halo around her and inhibited any view of the tops of the buildings. Leaning barely an inch forward, Gaby heard Illya shout her name as a gun went off. Illya’s arm was across her chest in a second and the bullet bit into his bicep as he pulled her back.

       “Oh shit,” Gaby ripped off a part of his shirt before wrapping it around the wound. Illya heaved a breath as she tightened the cloth with a guilty look. They stood in silence for a minute, both of them racking their brains for a plan.

       With an idea in mind, Gaby turned back to the door and found the light hanging above them.

       “Shut your eyes and when the light goes out, open them and find the shooter.”

       Illya nodded once as Gaby took aim and closed her eyes. Shooting accurately, the light bulb exploded and her and Illya made their way into the dark night, their eyes adjusting quickly to the black. Almost immediately, Illya shot a man from the rooftop.

       “Ok, let’s go.” Illya and Gaby jogged down the alley and through empty streets until they reached a small building. They entered without hesitation and made their way up the stairs to an office full of filing cabinets.

       “Alright, chop shop girl, this is you,” Illya raised his gun as Gaby ran past him. Ripping open cabinets, Gaby flipped through hundreds of files, looking for just one in particular.

       “Don’t you guys alphabetize?” Gaby huffed out a frustrated breath after searching for a couple minutes. Illya let out a small chuckle, easing Gaby’s nerves slightly.

       On her third drawer, she stopped abruptly when she recognized a name in the sea of files. Udo Teller. The file behind it pulled on her heart. Sophia Teller. Gaby glanced at Illya before shoving both of them into her bag. She continued on to two more drawers before she found the file they had come for.

       “Got it,” Gaby threw it in her bag and placed it over her shoulders.

       “Let’s go then.”

       Gaby had taken a single step in Illya’s direction when the window behind her shattered. A bullet dug into the back of Gaby’s thigh, dropping her to the ground in agony.

       “Gaby!”

       Gunshots filled the room as Illya scooped her up and ran out of the room. With each step he took down the stairs and into the night, Gaby could feel the bullet shifting in her leg. Biting her lip to keep from screaming, Gaby listened to Illya reassuring her.

       “Almost there. It’ll be okay.”

       Resting her head against his shoulder, Gaby clung to the front of his jacket. When did the enemies from her nightmares become the most comforting thing in her life? The thought of a Russian agent made Gaby quiver in fear, but Illya did the exact opposite. Even his heavy Russian accent put her at ease. It was ridiculously ironic.

       Hearing Illya curse loudly, Gaby’s eyes flew open as Illya dropped her. Hitting the ground, Gaby screamed in pain and watched with clouded eyes as Illya wrestled with a KGB agent that had been hidden in the shadows.

       Searching the ground around her, Gaby saw her gun lying a few feet away from her. She turned back to watch Illya successfully block a knife, but a fist smashed into his face instead.

       Panicking, Gaby groaned as she inched towards her gun. Her heart rose into her throat when she made out the Russian curse words being thrown at each other down the alley. Her mother’s pleads and the Russian’s harsh words broke into Gaby’s thoughts.

       Nearly sobbing out of fear, Gaby finally reached the gun. Sitting up, she aimed the gun at the Russian but the fight was too messy to get a clear shot.

       Using Illya’s arm wound against him, the agent slammed his fist into the injury, making Illya grunt. Illya’s punches connected with the man’s stomach but with one good arm, it was futile. The agent stepped back and sent an uppercut to Illya’s jaw, sending him to the ground.

       With her fear at an all time high, Gaby aimed and delivered four bullets into the unsuspecting agent. He dropped instantly and Gaby lowered her gun, her chest heaving.

       Using the wall to propel herself to her feet, Gaby nearly passed out as she stumbled to Illya. Falling to his side, Gaby was relieved to find him awake.

       Placing a hand to his bloody cheek, Gaby choked out, “Oh my god, Illya.”

       His eyes fluttered open before he sat up. After spitting blood onto the pavement, Illya rose to his feet shakily. Helping Gaby to stand, he caught her when she swayed.

       His voice was muffled as he placed her over his shoulder, “Stay awake, Gaby.”

       Gaby’s vision flickered in and out, “I’m trying.”

       She heard Illya say something about not letting her die before she passed out.

 

* * *

 

       

       “Fräulein!”

       With an annoyed sigh, a 19-year-old Gaby rolled out from underneath a car. Placing her tools onto a bench, she had began climbing the steps to the small apartment above the garage when the call came again.

       “Fräulein! Get up here.”

       “I’m coming!”

       Gaby cursed under her breath as she opened the door at the top of the stairwell. Turning into a tiny kitchen, she found her foster father, clad in his pajamas, sitting at the small table in the corner.

       He rubbed his eyes as Gaby casually grabbed a glass of water, “Have you even been to bed yet?”

       Glancing at the clock, Gaby was not surprised to see it was a little after 4 am. She hadn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since her mother’s death.

       “I couldn’t sleep.”

       “You can’t keep doing this. We have a strict curfew and if the guards find you out after hours-”

       “I never leave the garage.” Gaby’s fear of the Russian guards made sure she never left after dark.

       “Okay, but what about that young man visiting you the other night?”

       Gaby swallowed slowly, “Finn was-”

       Her foster father got up and stood in front of her, his large figure blocking out the kitchen light, “If you or him get caught, then we all will pay the price. I promised your father that I would keep you safe. That boy makes it difficult to keep my promise.”

       With her exhaustion, Gaby’s anger rose quickly, “Don’t talk to me about that bastard. You’re my father.”

       He grabbed her hands as he lowered his voice, “Gaby, please don’t. He only wanted the best for you-”

       Ripping her hands away, Gaby shouted, “Then why did he leave me behind?!”

       “Lower your voice-”

       Gaby paced across the floor, her hands frantically thrown in the air, “My mother dies and then he leaves me with only a note of goodbye and an address of an uncle I’ve never met! How am I supposed to just accept that?”

       Her father’s hands slammed over her mouth, cutting off her words. Gaby could hear the Russian guards out in the street.

       “You need to calm down. One day you will understand why your father left. I don’t expect it to be any time soon, but for now, trust my words, Gaby.  Your father did not abandon you. Do you think I would let him drop you without a good reason? I love you Gaby and so does your father. I promise you that.”

       Gaby’s chin quivered as she tried to hold in her tears. Being pulled into his warm arms, Gaby closed her tired eyes as the never ending exhaustion took over her body. With her insomnia, it never felt like she was totally awake. The days were a long blur and the nights were suffocating and lonely. She wasn’t sure how she survived the days, but Finn was always there for her at night. Without him, her mother and father haunted her. And it never took long for her increasing terror of the Russians to climb into her mind and take over. It had gotten better over the years, but still she was scared to fall asleep just in case her memories replayed themselves.

       Gaby hadn’t even realized she was crying until she felt rough hands wipe the tears away from her cheek.

       “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

       Gaby leaned into his embrace, taking comfort from his beard scratching against her forehead and his forever oily, dirty hands rubbing circles on her back. He had been more of a father than Udo Teller had ever been. She was proud to be Fräulein Schmidt.

 

* * *

 

 

       Gasping awake, Gaby felt hands try to push her back down to the bed.

       “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

       Grimacing from the pain in her leg, Gaby glanced around the dark room. Thinking she was still in her dream, Gaby didn’t understand that Illya had said the words and not her father.

       Turning, Gaby found Illya sitting on the edge of the bed, his jaw and eyes dark purple. For a second, her fear crawled into her throat and she nearly jumped away from his hands.

       “Gaby,” His voice was hoarse but quiet.

       Gaby slowed her breathing before relaxing, “Sorry, nightmare.”

        Illya nodded as his thumb rubbed tears off her chin, “I know.”

        Suddenly attentive, Gaby gripped his forearm, “Napoleon?”

        Illya shifted to the side so Gaby could see into the other room. Napoleon sat in an armchair, his leg propped up on a coffee table. Gaby let out a sigh of relief.

        Illya stood up, “Waverly has asked for me and Napoleon. Try to get some sleep.”

        Gaby didn’t release his hand until he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Watching Illya help Napoleon to his feet, Gaby’s heart raced as they left her alone in the unknown room.

       Trying to calm herself, Gaby was leaning back against the pillows when her eyes found her bag lying abandoned on a chair.

       Grunting as her leg screamed in protest, Gaby scooted to the edge of the bed and used the table to help herself stand up. Straightening her back, Gaby saw black spots in her vision as blood ran to her leg. She felt her thigh grow numb as she hobbled to the chair, grabbing her bag and tossing it onto the bed. Walking easier, Gaby stood at the edge of the bed and opened the bag. The folders were a little beat up but still held all of their contents.

       Hurriedly pulling the folders out, Gaby set aside the mission’s folder and placed her mother and father’s in front of her. She flipped through her father’s papers quickly, already knowing everything about the Nazis, his American life, Vinciguerra, and then his death. She closed the folder and turned to her mother’s much thinner file.

       Biting her lip, Gaby shakily opened it. A picture of her mother was clipped to the first page and Gaby ran her fingers of her mother’s gentle smile. She remembered that smile well. It was the one she gave Gaby when she came home with a black eye. Or when she watched Gaby pull cookies out of the oven. It was too soft for East Berlin.

       Sucking in a breath, Gaby tore her eyes away from the picture and read the papers slowly but found nothing she didn’t already know. Disappointed, Gaby continued onto the next page and nearly collapsed at a photograph of her mother’s dead body. Gaby shut her eyes and breathed heavily, holding in the tears threatening to fall.

       She counted the seconds until she was under control again. Looking back at the page, Gaby flipped the photo over before reading. Time and place of death. How she died by execution because her husband wouldn’t cooperate with the Russians. How her daughter was dragged away after she had snuck into the public plaza.

       It was all as Gaby remembered it until her eyes froze over a little note written at the bottom. She reread the words multiple times, not believing it was true. With her hands shaking, Gaby’s tears splattered onto the page as she muttered the words.

       “Executed by Pavel Kuryakin.”

       Gaby thought back on the man in the suit, holding a gun to her mother’s head. Since she had been a kid at the time she couldn’t be entirely sure, but the man had seemed taller than normal. His hair a dusty blonde. His voice deep while dragging her away from her dead mother.

        Swaying on her feet, Gaby felt the empty cavern in her chest open up. She hadn’t realized it had been healed since she had met Illya. Now it was swallowing her again, just like all those nights she spent alone in the garage in East Berlin. Placing a hand to her chest, Gaby squeezed her eyes shut but she could only see her dead mother falling over. Her breaths quickened and Gaby felt like she couldn’t get any air.

       Gaby jumped, dropping the folder, when the door opened and Illya, Napoleon, and Waverly walked through.

       Mid-laugh, Napoleon stopped under Illya’s helping arm when he noticed Gaby first.

       “Gaby? You shouldn’t be on your leg yet.”

       Illya dropped Napoleon’s arm instantly and with a worried look, he made his way to her.

       “Stop!” Gaby held out her hand and Illya froze in place.

       Gaby’s heart raced when she matched Illya’s blond hair with the one from her nightmares. How could she have missed it?

       “Gaby?” Illya questioned softly from across the room.

       “Don’t,” Gaby’s voice shook as tears ran down her cheeks, “Please don’t.”

       Waverly spoke up, “What’s wron-”

       Gaby yelled and gestured at the folders, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

       All three of the men glanced down at the bed and Waverly’s expression immediately hardened at the picture of Gaby’s mother.

       Illya’s worry was replaced with fierce remorse, “Gaby-”

       Holding in a sob, she shook her head unbelieving as she stuttered, “You-you knew?”

       Illya stared unwaveringly into her eyes as Napoleon and Waverly shifted uneasily.

       A whimper escaped her as Gaby whispered, “You all knew?”

       Illya replied, his eyes never leaving her, “Yes.”

       Gaby felt her heart drop. Illya’s father had killed her mother, forever ruining her life, and the people she trusted more than anyone in her entire life had known. A father figure, her best friend, and the man she loved. All of them hiding this from her.

       Pressing a hand to her forehead, Gaby clumsily held in the sobs ripping through her chest. She hadn’t cried like this since her mother’s death. She had promised herself that it would never happen again.

       Turning back to the three of them, Gaby met Illya’s grave face and her heart broke.

       “How could you?”

       Illya stepped forward, his hand reaching for her.

       Gaby stumbled back against the bed, “Stay away from me.”

       “Gaby,” Illya’s heart broke at the fear in her eyes. She was scared of him. Just like that first night in East Berlin, except now it was worse. She wasn’t scared of some random KGB agent in the car next to her, she feared him. He could see her hands quivering behind her back and the way her eyes shifted whenever he moved a finger. He had done this to her.

       “Go away.”

       Gaby observed Illya’s hurt face before he started walking towards her again.

       “Go away.” Gaby repeated weakly.

       Illya stopped, his expression broken, before he moved back slowly to Napoleon and Waverly. Helping Napoleon, Waverly led them out the door. Illya sent her one last look before shutting the door.

       Finally letting out her sobs, Gaby heaved for air as she wrapped her arms around waist. After a couple minutes, she glanced back over at the bed and the files strewn across it.

       A sudden anger filled her and before she knew it, Gaby was throwing the files across the room. The papers cascaded around her as she climbed into the bed, her leg throbbing horribly. Just like when her father left her, Gaby curled up under the covers and cried until there was nothing left. And then at some point, she fell asleep and for once, nothing waited to haunt her.

 

       Gaby awoke to soft whispers and the sound of papers being shuffled together. She lied still under the covers, eavesdropping on the conversation.

       “We should’ve told her,” Napoleon’s voice came from across the room.

       “How?” Waverly replied quietly.

       “Well, anything would’ve been better than this. She’ll never trust us again.” Napoleon sounded frustrated.

       Gaby flinched when Illya spoke from right next to her, “Me. She won’t trust me again.”

       Napoleon sighed, “That’s not true.”

       “It was my responsibility to tell her. It was my father after all.”

       Waverly moved closer, “Kuryakin, you had no control over what your father did.”

       Illya’s voice was weak, “Maybe, but I still hurt her.”

       “We all did. Anyway, we can talk about it later. Our flight leaves in an hour. I’ll wake her up,” Napoleon grunted as he stood up. Gaby heard Illya and Waverly move away and leave the room. She waited until she heard Napoleon stand at her side before shifting.

       “How did I know you would already be awake?”

       Gaby didn’t answer as she sat up. She could feel Napoleon’s eyes on her as she moved to the opposite side of the bed and tenderly tested out her leg. It was painful but nothing she couldn’t handle.

       “I left some clothes out for you,” Napoleon shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched her hobble to the bathroom.

       Gaby changed slowly, glancing at her leg in the mirror before sliding on a dress. Putting on her sunglasses, Gaby stepped out of the bathroom as Napoleon stood up from his spot on the bed.

       “Gaby-”

       “Don’t.” She spoke firmly and turned to the door, leaving him in the hotel room alone.

       The four of them boarded an airplane to New York in silence. Taking the window seat immediately, Gaby squeezed herself against the wall as Waverly sat next to her. Ignoring Illya’s gaze from the seat behind her, she closed her eyes and didn’t speak the entire trip.

       When they landed, Gaby was quick to grab her bags and hail a taxi. Once she had climbed into the car, she looked out the window and met Illya’s forlorn gaze. She didn’t say goodbye before the taxi took her away.

 

       Weeks passed and Gaby resided in her small apartment. She went on physically exhausting missions to keep her mind busy and for a steady income, but mostly she spent her time lying awake at night and drinking. She hadn’t seen Napoleon or Illya since the airport and it felt like she was slowly figuring herself out without them. She had a set routine that she didn’t break and at first, it kept her busy, but now it left her mind with too much time to wander.

      Two months away from Napoleon and Illya, Gaby had thought she had gotten over the betrayal and hurt, until one night when she accidentally opened the wrong drawer while getting changed. Inside the small drawer was some of Illya’s things he kept at her place. An extra shirt and pants were folded perfectly, and on top sat a pair of socks and one of his hats. Slamming it shut, Gaby just crawled into her bed in nothing but her underwear and tried to hold herself together. Despite the ache of the truth about her mother, Gaby still craved for Illya’s presence. She even missed Napoleon’s smartass remarks. Whether she liked it or not, they had become her family after losing her father and uncle in Rome.

 

* * *

 

       “Gaby…Gabriella.”

       Gaby grunted as she rolled over from her comfortable spot on the edge of the bed. Her shoulder throbbed from where it was dislocated earlier in the day.

       She didn’t have the power to open her eyes when she answered, “What?”

       Illya was wide awake as he watched her fight against the heaviness of sleep, “Nothing.”

       Gaby hummed before rolling away from him, her bare back reflecting the early morning light. Leaning forward, he kissed the back of her neck and Gaby sighed. She felt the bed move as he stood up and she crawled deeper under the covers as he dressed quietly.

       “See you in a couple days,” he whispered, leaning over her on the bed.

       “Be safe,” Gaby managed to murmur before sleep took her.

 

* * *

 

 

       It was late in January and Gaby was climbing the stairs to her apartment in the moonlight. Her arms and legs ached from her recent mission and she nearly took a break halfway up the stairwell to ease her aches. Instead, she thought of her bed waiting for her and the warmth calling to her made her persevere.

       Standing at her front door, Gaby grunted frustratingly with her key ring before finding the right key. Opening the door, she relaxed as she dropped her bag onto the floor and stepped out of her heels. After throwing her keys onto the small table next to the door and turning on the light, she turned around and startled when she saw Illya standing in the middle of the room. His hair was full with melting snow and his cheeks red from the bitter wind. Obviously he had arrived barely a minute before her.

       Illya opened his mouth to say something but shut it quietly. He didn’t move and neither did Gaby.

       Running her eyes over him, Gaby could see the bags under his eyes and the fresh cuts and bruises on his knuckles. She watched a melted portion of snow slide from his hair onto his shoulder before she moved.

       Removing her coat, Gaby asked, “What are you doing here?”

       Illya’s voice was faint, “I had to see you.”

       “By breaking into my apartment?”

       “No, I mean, yes, but I haven’t been here long. I waited outside for you, but I underestimated how cold it was. Also, you gave me a key a while ago.”

       Gaby had forgotten. Stepping onto the carpet, she crossed her arms over her chest.

        “So why are you here?”

       Illya sniffed, his finger running under his nose, “I’m sorry.”

       Swallowing, Gaby blinked quickly, “It’s a little late for that.”

       Illya stepped forward and stopped an arm’s length away from her, “Gaby, I was going to tell you but I just – I couldn’t – I didn’t want to hurt you.”

       Gaby felt her throat beginning to close and her voice only came out as a whisper, “You broke my heart, Illya.”

       “I know and I’m so sorry,” Illya reached out for her but Gaby stepped back from him.

       “If you had told me from the start, it would’ve been so much easier. But you decided I was not worth telling. You chose to keep it to yourself and you expect me to forgive you just like that?” Gaby felt her voice waver.

       Illya’s expression was pained, “No, Gaby, please.”

       Gaby felt a tear drop onto her cheek, “Your father murdered my mother. She didn’t do anything wrong and he executed her. Why was a government official killing citizens anyway?”

       Illya shook his head, “It is KGB, you wouldn’t understand-”

       “I wouldn’t understand?!” Gaby shouted before shoving Illya’s chest, making him step back, “What am I missing?! I never would’ve lost my father and mother if it weren’t for you god damn Russians!”

       Tears cascaded down Gaby’s cheeks as she punched his chest. For the past couple of months, she had thought she had everything under control. But Illya’s broken appearance and honest apology had reopened her wounds in an instant.

       Taking a few of her punches, Illya finally reached up and gripped her wrists. She fought against him but her sobs made her weak.

       “Gaby, I’m sorry,” Illya pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her.  

       Gaby buried her face into him as she tried to catch her breath. She felt Illya push his face into her hair and Gaby sighed shakily, her heart aching from her desire to relax into his embrace but wanting to pull away simultaneously.

       They stood together as Gaby’s cries calmed. She was about to pull away when Illya spoke faintly.

       “You know I would never do what my father did, right?”

       Gaby squeezed her eyes shut. She knew it was true, but her anxiety spoke otherwise. Gaby had met loads of KGB agents in her life and none of them could say they hadn’t killed an innocent. How could this one man be any different from the rest?

       Despite taking a deep breath, Gaby’s voice shook as she took a step away from him, “I don’t know.”

       Illya shut his eyes briefly as Gaby moved into her bedroom. Following her slowly, Illya stood at the door as she sat on the edge of the bed he knew too well.

       Gaby stared at the floor, “How do I know if you’re telling the truth? I’ve watched you kill countless men without a thought. I’ve only known you since Rome, you could’ve been completely different beforehand.”

       Moving swiftly to kneel before Gaby, Illya touched her hands, “Do you think a kid who lost everything to the KGB would repeat the same actions that ruined his life? I joined the KGB because I had no choice. With my father’s reputation, I never would have been given a regular job. I had to redeem myself, but I never lost my morals along the way.”

       Gaby’s lip trembled as she shook her head, her eyes still on the floor. Her thoughts were running wild in her head.

       Illya leaned forward, “Gaby. I promise, I’ve never killed anyone innocent and I never will. Please, just look at me.”

       With Illya’s pleads, Gaby drew her eyes away from the floor and looked at him. His blue eyes were softer than she had ever seen them before. Thinking back, she had seen many men fall to Illya but none of them had been blameless. Even police were knocked out but never killed.

       “Do you believe me?” Illya’s hands tightened around her small ones. Gaby stared at him as she tried to order her thoughts. All of the evidence was laid out in front of her. The only part of her that was holding back was her heart. She never wanted to admit how crushed she had been when she found out about her mother and his father. It had felt like everything they had shared was a complete lie.

       But now with Illya in front of her and his words running through her mind, Gaby hesitated. Illya had never purposely hurt or lied to her. If she couldn’t trust him then she couldn’t trust anyone.

       Gradually squeezing his fingers back, Gaby muttered what she knew to be true, “Yes.”

       Gaby watched Illya smile meekly as he rubbed his finger across her cheek, removing the last of her tears. His grin pulled on her heart and she didn’t regret trusting him.

       Gaby was leaning her cheek into his palm when he stood up and mumbled, “I’ll leave now. I’m sure you need some time.”

       Panicking at the thought of spending another night awake by herself, Gaby frantically clasped his hand as he moved back. Pausing, Illya looked down at her.

       “Can you stay? Please?” Gaby felt ridiculous for asking. A grown woman too afraid to spend the night alone. How pitiful.

       Illya hesitated before nodding sympathetically and taking off his jacket. Gaby removed her dress hastily and climbed into her bed. She watched as Illya turned off the light and changed in the darkness. Her heart sped up when she felt him slide under the covers on his usual side of the bed.

       Placing a foot between them, Illya rolled to face Gaby as his body relaxed into the bed. He never understood why hers felt so much more comfortable than his own. It was possible that it wasn’t the beds that made a difference but the presence of Gaby.

       Reaching out, Illya tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. He was shocked when she grabbed his hand and held it between hers.

       “You’re cold,” Gaby muttered gently before blowing hot air over his fingers.

       Gazing at Gaby, Illya felt like he owed so much more to her. His apology didn’t fully satisfy his guilt for her pain. There was always more he could do when it came to her.

       Gulping, Illya said it before chickening out, “I had a sister.”

       Gaby’s breath paused on his fingers. She gazed at him silently with wide eyes, not wanting to scare him out of saying anything more. She knew his childhood was a guarded subject and he was always skittish when it came to questions about it.

       Illya sighed as Gaby waited patiently, “My father was a weak man. He had always been scared of the KGB’s influence on Russia. He used me and my sister as excuses for his scared actions. He used the embezzled money to buy a big house and fancy suits, hoping his reputation as a government official would protect him from the KGB. However, the KGB never cared about their reputation with the public. They only cared about making a point. So to prove a point to my father, they killed my sister. She was eight.”

       Illya took a deep breath before continuing, “And then my father was forced to publicly execute citizens. It ruined him and they took him away. I promised myself that I would never be the same person my father was, scared and irrational. So I joined the KGB and never saw my mother again. It was the only way I could ever pull myself away from my past.”

       Gaby frowned as Illya finished in a soft breath. Scooting closer to him, Gaby pressed her lips to his fingers as his other hand wrapped around her waist. She was happy to notice that her earlier fear was nowhere to be found inside of her. 

       “What was your sister like?” Gaby whispered.

       Illya smirked, “Annoying. She always knew how to push my buttons.”

       “Like Napoleon?” Gaby closed her eyes as she leaned her head against his chest.

       Gaby felt Illya’s chuckle, “No, not as bad. She was always kind though. She once saved this sick rabbit we found in the park. She took it home and placed it in an old shoe box. She actually nursed it back to health and we got to release it. From then on, my mom and I called her зайка.”

       Illya rubbed circles into Gaby’s bare back as he carried on with stories about his little sister. Tangling her legs with his, Gaby listened to his deep voice and felt the sleepless nights beginning to catch up to her.

       Feeling trust settle back into her bones, Gaby smiled into Illya’s collarbone as he laughed again. She was able to hum in response to his stories for a few minutes longer before she fell asleep quicker and easier than ever before; Illya’s voice easing her into a gentle world where their parent’s pasts didn’t haunt them and they only had each other.

 


End file.
